


Oliver Queen Reader-Inserts

by hallaratthemoon (orphan_account)



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, Gen, M/M, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 21:21:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8912428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/hallaratthemoon
Summary: A variety of Oliver Queen x Reader works that I have written out on my Tumblr. Most of these are based off prompts I have been sent.





	

Placing a hand over your stomach, you reach up to place the last of the tinsel on the tree. Just as you’re stretching on your tiptoes to toss it over onto the other side, Oliver comes walking through the front door. His eyes widen and, before you can ask what’s going on, he’s lifted you off the small ladder and put you back on the ground.

“What were you thinking?! You could have fallen and hurt yourself up there!”

You roll your eyes, moving over to the other boxes and bending down to grab some of the ornaments. Oliver is still standing there when you turn around, and you raise a brow as you attempt to move around him. He shifts, stepping into your way and crossing his arms.

“No way. You are _not_ going back up there. What if you fell? You and the baby could be hurt,” he snaps, eyes cold and harsh.

It wasn’t uncommon for Oliver to be protective of you, but ever since you had become pregnant, the over protectiveness had gotten out of hand. Throwing your hands up in frustration, you set down the ornaments and cover your face. Immediately, you start crying, blubbering about how stupid he could be and how horrible it was to be treated like something so fragile. His hardened exterior cracks as he moves to hold you, rubbing your back and hushing you.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be yelling at you for just trying to get things done.”

“Damn right you shouldn’t.” His eyes widen when you stop crying all together and push past him to hang up the decorations. “I’m five months pregnant, not incompetent.”

Staring at you in surprise, Oliver shakes his head and holds the ladder while you climb up to finish the tree. “Fine, but that doesn’t mean I can’t worry about you and be here to protect you both.”

“Shut up, Queen. I need to concentrate. The baby wants this to be perfect.”


End file.
